THE TRAVELS OF A BUTTERFLY. 25

“There,” said the cockchafer, ‘‘that is what I call taking
care of my belongings. No one can do more than I have done
for their children, I consider. They will now be born in the
greatest comfort, with food already to hand.”

“ Awk! awk! awk!” said a big black bird which was
walking solemnly about the field with several others. The
cockchafer flew up into a small oak-tree in the hedge when it
saw them coming, and the butterfly followed. The big black
birds were rooks; and they were grubbing in the ground for
what they could find. It did not cost them much trouble to
dig, as their beaks were strong and-had a bit of leathery skin at
the top, in the rooks’ forehead; so that even if a rook were to
bury his beak in the earth as far as it would go, which he some-
times did, his feathers would not be spoilt round the root of the
beak, or rubbed off, which would have hurt‘him. They seemed
to be enjoying the food they found very much, as they walked
backwards and forwards over the furrows, routing and rum-
maging while they cawed to one another. One rook sat in the
hedge to keep watch, and presently he gave the alarm. There
was a tremendous clamour and bustle at once among the rooks.
Pop! bang! went a great sound somewhere—and suddenly one
of them fell dead. Some men came over the stile, picked up
the dead rook, and propped him upon a forked stick in the
middle of the field that the others might see it and keep away
for fear they should be shot too.

“Now,” said the cockchafer, ‘‘Ze’s done for. A good thing
too! What business had he to be eating up my brothers and
sisters? Why, I might have been eaten up myself, and what a
loss that would have been. Did you say ‘ Yes?’”

The butterfly had not said yes, but now it said, ‘‘ You lived
under the ground once then?”

“Why, you see, we are born under the ground,” said the